


In The Air Tonight

by PoseidonsUnderpants



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Break Up, Jaydick Week 2, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7246198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoseidonsUnderpants/pseuds/PoseidonsUnderpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Jaydick Week June 2016, Day 7: First Breakup.</p>
<p>Hell, he hadn’t seen it coming, and he was directly involved (and responsible).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce didn’t even try to sound surprised when Dick called him and said _I need to get away from the flat, can I stay at the Manor?_

Dick knew he didn’t have the best track record when it came to long-lasting, stable relationships, but not even Bruce could have seen this coming. Hell, _he_ hadn’t seen it coming, and he was directly involved (and responsible).

He and Jason had been together for months, almost a year, and it had been going great: they lived together, fought side-by-side most nights, and most importantly they understood each other.  Dick could admit to himself that, maybe, there was a reason he tended to walk slower when he passes jewellers, and it wasn’t that he was considering how long it would take for the store to get robbed; it was him thinking to himself _hey, this ring looks nice, it would suit Jason perfectly …_

_Yeah._ He knows. Anyway, the point was—there had been no warning signs to the fact that all of a sudden, Dick was single. Jason had been pretty damn clear about that before Dick had left (ran away from) what was technically his own apartment.

He couldn’t recall driving to the Manor; by now it was autopilot, something he could do without thinking, which was useful considering how much he’d had to drink. Yes, he understands he’s being a shitty policeman right now.

While the alcohol hadn’t completely impaired his driving abilities (he had learnt to drive cars, motorbikes, boats and planes by the time he was ten; some things were hard to forget), it did make fitting his key into the lock of the main front door extremely challenging. Alfred opened the door for him after five minutes of blinking uselessly and jabbing at the door with his keys.

“Master Richard,” Alfred, the god he was, managed to sound both concerned and disapproving at the same time, “whatever had driven you into such a state?”

“Alf,” Dick threw his weight forwards to wrap is arms around Alfred, pinning his arms to his side and restricting him from escaping the embrace. “Ya still love me, right?”

“Of course,” Alfred said after a short pause.

“Tha’s good, ‘cause Jason doesn’t no more. ‘e said so,” it wasn’t funny, it was awful, it was heartbreaking, but Dick laughed anyway because that hid his tears the best.

Dick couldn’t see Alfred’s face, but he felt the sharp intake of breath. Yeah, he had been surprised too—still was, in fact. It felt like a fucking prank, one he had helped play on himself.

“I’m sure that it not the case. Perhaps you should let me assist you to your room?” Alfred manoeuvred himself out of Dick’s clumsy grasp and all but pushed him out of the doorway so he could close the door a block out the cold night air. Dick’s foot got stuck on the edge of an expensive maroon rug, causing him to stumble. Dick shoved his arms out to block his fall—but his reactions were too slow, and he fell heavily on his arm. Thank God the rug was so thick. As he lay there, groaning at the pain dizziness, he thought to himself _Jason would have found that hilarious,_ then the pain didn’t seem to matter anymore; in fact, he welcomed it.

Alfred sighed and tied to help Dick up, but Alfred had grown weaker in his old age, and Dick both couldn’t and wouldn’t help. Alfred gave up after a while and disappeared for a period of time Dick lost track of, then reappeared with, dammit, Bruce at his side.

Bruce lifted Dick up, though not with the same ease as he used to—Dick had gained more muscle mass as he grew older, and Bruce’s back had never been the same since Bane. Nonetheless, Dick found himself being fireman carried to the most often used living room and dumped on the sofa.

When Bruce began to step back Dick held fast to his arm, keeping Bruce’s face in his line of sight.

“You knew,” he accused, his voice croaking.

Bruce didn’t express any emotion Dick could read at that moment, and his voice was steady.

“You two are both very stubborn and strong-willed men. It was to be expected that you would have disagreements,” he stated.

Dick snorted, “‘disagreements’, ‘e says.”

Bruce glanced away to where Dick couldn’t see (most likely at Alfred), “I thought … you two had a fight.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, “then we broke up.”

Bruce actually recoiled in shock—the last time anyone had gotten such a reaction from him was when Barbara had added a screamer pop up to the file on the Gotham sewage system. Tim had been in on it and had recorded his reaction. It had been beautiful. Jason liked to watch it at least once a week, and every time he burst out laughing. It was perhaps Dick’s favourite sound.

“I—what happened?” Bruce demanded.

What an excellent question.

 

*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start to find out the events that lead to the first chapter.

It was a Saturday night, late to most everyone else, but to Nightwing and Red Hood, it was only the beginning. Together they escorted drugged up people to their homes, broke up street fights and stopped muggings; typical. As far as they knew, all the regular baddies were locked up in either Arkham or Blackgate, so they allowed themselves to relax, maybe kiss for longer than they should on rooftops when, blessedly, the streets were quiet. Dick had thought to himself _this is proof we are making things better._ With hindsight, he couldn’t believe he was still capable of such naivety.

 _“Back up possibly required in Chinatown,”_ Tim’s voice interrupted them before, if they ever got arrested, ‘public indecency’ could be added to the ‘vigilantism’ sentence.

“What’s the problem?” Jason asked.

 _“I’m following a lead on a possible suspect. Locals aren’t cooperating and are waving weapons around. I don’t want any passers-by getting caught in the crossfire,”_ Tim explained, because of course he wasn’t concerned about his own safety.

“On our way, Red. ETA one minute,” Dick replied, then grinned at Jason—who, under his mask, he was sure was grinning back—and jumped off the roof.

By the time he and Jason arrived, Tim looked like he was trying to contain a riot. They were outside a Chinese food restaurant that was blatantly a cover for a mob establishment, considering how out of pace it looked on the otherwise run-down street. ‘Customers’ were leaning out of the window and yelling obscene things in Chinese at him, pointing handguns,  while the wait staff were blocking him from entering, whispering nervously into headsets.

Tim was pleading with them in Chinese, a language Dick realised he was startlingly out of practice with.

“ _Please, I just want to ask the manager some questions,”_ Red Robin held his hands up in a gesture of friendliness.

“Tim, back up a moment, yeah?” Jason tugged at Tim’s cape.

Tim hesitated, but allowed himself to be dragged across the street.

“How bad do you need to talk to the manager?” Dick asked. “Is it worth starting a gang war over?”

Tim crossed his arms. His (ridiculous) cowl covered most of his face, but Dick could tell Tim was scowling at him.

“Considering the Golden Dragons seem to be doing that just fine by themselves? Of course it’s important!” Tim spat. Dick wondered how long it had been since he had last slept. “I have six of Penguin’s men dead, and very soon Cobblepot is going to retaliate. Unless I get the Dragons to back off, that is.”

Jason tilted his head, “why didn’t you get me involved with this? I’m kinda an expert at gang politics.”

Dick snorted, then tried to look apologetic. Tim didn’t look too impressed either.

“Look, I didn’t ask for your help before because I had it under control. I don’t anymore, so I asked you two. Are you gonna keep being an arse about it or help me?” Tim glared.

Jason shifted uncomfortably, “dude, I wasn’t tryna—”

“Whatever.” Tim turned away and strode determinately back towards the restaurant, seemingly oblivious to the amount of guns aimed at him.

“ _Shit,_ ” Jason hissed. “What’s up with him?”

The question wasn’t rhetorical, unfortunately. Dick knew that Tim had recently confessed to Conner, who had flown away and hadn’t been seen since. But, Dick only knew this because he had encouraged Tim to tell Conner his feelings, so now he felt awful and guilty and Tim had made him promise not to tell anyone and he didn’t want to disappoint him _again,_ which meant that Dick was now going to have to lie to Jason.

“We all have those days, I guess,” Dick said offhandedly. How Jason managed to make a faceless red mask look doubtful he would never know.

“We’re talking about this later,” Jason promised.

_Great._

 

_*_


End file.
